When I died I had a self reminder on the back of my hand. I forget what it said now, but it was something like, Don’t forget that thing you are supposed to remember. My…
Date Archives March 2014
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Our sixth-grade classroom smelled of stale peanut butter and scrapped fruit wafting from the lunch pails inside our desks—those we’d crouched under in drills during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Word problems and diagrammed sentences sprawled…
Writers Without Tires
As steam escaped from the right side of the car, we quickly pulled onto the shoulder of a highway off-ramp. Realizing that the turbulence was not a bumpy road, but that something somewhat serious had…